The Other Woman
by Tarafina
Summary: She swore... if he could, he'd marry his car. :Chloe/Dean:


**Title**: The Other Woman  
**Category**: Smallville/Supernatural  
**Rating**: T**  
Genre**: Humor/Romance  
**Pairing**: Chloe/Dean  
**Prompt**: #04 - Purr  
**Word Count**: 1,244  
**Summary**: She swore... if he could, he'd marry his car.

**_The Other Woman  
_**1/1

"Listen to my baby purr..."

She swore... if he could, he'd marry his car. Sometimes, it was like they had their own language; as if Dean could understand what the Impala was saying. Sam said it was just the mechanic in him, that the clinging and clanging spoke to his high school Shop mind, but she was starting to wonder if it was someone else. Not like she could accuse a car of having an affair with her husband though, so she kept it to herself. And she wouldn't admit to any soul alive that she was slightly, a tiny, itty bitty, barely recognizable bit _jealous _of that car. Because she wasn't... Not at all... Not of how Dean pet it or looked at it or how he seemed to melt into the Impala's seats as if she just satisfied him by being there and waiting. No. She didn't even notice.

Which is why she _wasn't _ignoring him right now. Why she _wasn't _staring out the window, silently hating the car as it dutifully drove them from one town to the next. Which is why she _didn't _ignore the way his hand reached out and stroked her thigh, trying to get her attention.

"You wanna tell me what's wrong?" he asked gruffly, sounding irritated that he even had to ask.

"Nothing," she said, sounding completely pleasant and _not at all _annoyed.

"Yeah," he scoffed. "Is it that time of the month? Because if you wanna bitch about cramps, Sammy's on your speed dial."

"No, Dean, it is _not _my time of the month," she replied, smiling and _not _scowling at him.

"All right, all right. Geez," he muttered, shifting around in his seat before he sighed and turned his attention back to the road.

It was silent for all of two minutes.

"Did you get enough sleep?"

"Yes. Plenty." Not really. He was there... and he'd always had wandering hands and an attentive mouth. So sleep was low on her list compared to a nice long night of having him touch her every curve and make her scream his name like he so loved hearing. At the rate they were going, she was surprised they didn't just bring pregnancy kits around with them. Salt? Check. Holy water? Check. Pregnancy tests? Check, check, check.

He grumbled to himself, shifting around some more. He hated it when she was in a mood and didn't just tell him what was up. He didn't like guessing and he hated being in the dark. He also hated it when she was pissy with him, which is what she was being and she knew that. But seriously, she knew men loved their cars, still, did all of them treat them like a long lost lover? No. No possible way. Otherwise divorce would be a lot higher than just fifty percent. She loved the Impala, she did. It was reliable, strong, and it always got them where they wanted to go, with extra room in the back for whatever they needed. But she did _not _coo to it and she _never _called it baby or gave it a gender. It was a car.

"Seriously!? Will you just _tell _me what's got your panties in a wad? Because it's a long drive to the next town and I _know _you don't want to listen to Metallica non-stop!"

She clenched her jaw and then turned to him. "I'm. Not. Mad."

"Now say it like you mean it, sweetheart. Preferably without the clenched teeth and death ray eyes!" he exclaimed in a huff.

She rolled her eyes, shaking her head and slumping back into the seat. "It's nothing. I'm being ridiculous."

"No argument here," he replied with a shrug. He glanced at her from the corner of his eyes. "You wanna call Sam?"

She smiled slightly. "No, I don't want to call Sam..." He always referred her to his brother if he thought she was going through a chick-flick moment. "It's about the Impala."

His face paled slightly. "What? What happened? What'd you do? Is she dented? Did you drive her?"

She rolled her eyes. "No, I didn't drive her. Heaven forbid," she muttered. "It's just..." She licked her lips. "It's a _car_, Dean."

"Yeah..." He shook his head slightly, waiting for her to clear the confusion.

"And you treat it like it's alive... Like it's some woman that you're in love with..."

He stared at her with furrowed brows before suddenly his expression widened with understanding and he bit his lip so not to laugh. "Are... Are you _jealous_?"

"No!" she yelled, her expression scrunching up. "It's a car! Why would I be jealous of a car?"

"You are!" He laughed. "Chloe..."

"Shut up." She glowered.

"Come on, Chlo..."

"Shut. Up."

"I'm not... I'm not laughing at you." Except he was. Loudly.

"Yes, actually, you are."

He nodded, slowing the Impala down and pulling off to the side. He was nearly holding his sides, he was laughing so hard.

Scowling, she shook her head, staring out the window. She shouldn't have told him. Years ago, she would've been smarter than this. But no... No, she had to go and fall for the idiot and then on top of that, marry him. Exactly what brought her here? One minute she was chasing down a big story, the next she was meeting the Winchester brothers and on the adventure of a lifetime. Only to wave goodbye to Sam as he went on back to college life and climb into the passenger seat to Dean, now becoming his right hand man - er, woman. Unfortunately for Sam, their relationship started _before _he could escape to "normal life" and because Dean didn't like the lack of security in having two rooms, was forced to listen to them fight, make up, and just plain go at it like bunnies. She sometimes wondered if that's one of the reasons he returned to Stanford so quickly.

Sighing, Dean sat back and grinned over at her. He reached out to touch her arm but she shrugged it away. She wasn't in the mood to talk or listen.

"Okay, I'm sorry, I shouldn't'a laughed. You can kick my ass later. But seriously... I'm not in love with my car, I just... love her. She's always been there, through thick and thin. She's like family, that's all." He shrugged.

"So you don't love her but you _love _her?" She lifted a brow.

"I said I'm not _in _love with her." He shook his head. "That's probably some weird sexual disorder... loving inanimate objects." He shook his head, getting off track. "Anyway, there's nothing to worry about. I mean, really... Come on. It's a car."

She turned back to him, frowning. "Fine... But no more talking about her life she's a woman. No more, listen to her purr or stroking her..."

He smirked. "So I can only stroke you and make you purr?"

She tried to smile. "You can try, there's no guarantee you'll actually accomplish any..." She trailed off as his hand slid across her thigh and up the inside, fingers tracing the seam of her jeans. She let out a breathy sigh, staring at him as his lips twitched, hand cupping her tightly through her pants.

"You don't think I can make you purr, sweetheart?" he asked lowly, lifting a brow.

She licked her dry lips. "Care to prove me wrong, Winchester?"

The look in his eyes said yes and she couldn't wait.


End file.
